Today, we took advantage of the bright, sunny (hot) day to take a family trip to the local amusement park (and by local, I mean we can get there and back in one day). Not counting the baby who, let’s face it, is too young to actually get anything out of an amusement park, we had kids ranging in age from two-years-old to almost nine-years-old. Obviously, not everyone could ride what everyone else wanted to so, at times, we split up to make everyone happy.
During one of these splits, Sean and I found ourselves sitting with the two younger boys while M3 and N~ rode a rollercoaster and M4 (I have mentioned that all of my brother-in-law’s kid’s names start with “M,” right?) and W~ were playing in water fountains. We ended up on a bench in front of the Snack Shack where C~ could sit and watch through a large window as a girl made cotton candy. He was entranced.
After fifteen minutes or so of sitting on this bench, the cotton candy lady came out a side door. She smiled, handed me a bag of cotton candy, and said, “You’re little boy is adorable.” I thanked her and gave C~ the bag to open as the woman went back to work. Almost immediately, the rest of the kids converged from their various other activities. As C~ prepared to share his spoils, the woman came back out with two more bags since one “obviously isn’t enough.”
I told my mom this story and she had the same reaction we did–it’s the eyes. Anyone who has met C~ knows what I am talking about. The rest of you will just have to believe me. Just imagine the two-year-old equivalent of this:
Except his eyes are bluuuuue. I swear, there is no resisting the eyes.
Which brings me to the question: Were my parents lacking in all human emotion?
Seriously, C~ has my eyes. I’ve seen the pictures–I had to have the same effect. So, how the heck did I not end up a totally spoiled princess child???
Shhhh….Do you hear that? That faint, distant thumping noise? It is the sound of my older sister simultaneously pounding her head on the table and screaming at her computer something about me getting the bigger stuffed Shamu at Sea World when I was three and she was nine. Moving on…(or we should have by now–that was 28 years ago…)
I have to be careful, though, because I honestly can’t blame the cotton candy lady. People are constantly telling me how gorgeous his eyes are. And he can work them. Take it from someone who occasionally has a really hard time telling him “no.”
Lock up your baby girls. In about fifteen year, this kid will be dangerous.